


Rock Bottom

by ashtraythief



Series: Underneath 'verse [8]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mob, Alternative Universe - FBI, M/M, Off-Screen Murder, Undercover, and the whole illegal shebang, general lawbreaking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-24
Updated: 2016-03-24
Packaged: 2018-05-28 16:46:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6337195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashtraythief/pseuds/ashtraythief
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Morgan needs results. Jensen tries his best to do his job and stay sane. It doesn’t always work.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rock Bottom

**Author's Note:**

  * For [matchboximpala](https://archiveofourown.org/users/matchboximpala/gifts).



> The wonderfully kind matchboximpala bought me for the fandomaid fundraiser for the nepal earthquake. Again, I’ve taken far too long and went grossly about wordcount to make up for it. You can see a pattern here. Fortunately, she gave me many options and my muse decided on a timestamp that kinda morphed into an almost sequel for my bigbang Underneath It All. 
> 
>  
> 
> Many thanks to [alycat](http://archiveofourown.org/users/alycat) for handholding and alpha-reading and [theatregirl7299](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Theatregirl7299/pseuds/Theatregirl7299) for all the beta work! All remaining mistakes just wanted to join the party.
> 
> ETA: Edited as of 12/17/2017. So many thanks to ilikaicalie for helping me fix this mess!

  
  


Jensen spotted him in his favorite bookstore. It was one of these old secondhand stores, more shelves than space for walking, books piled up high under the ceiling. One of the employes was a fantasy nut and Jensen had found gems from the eighties and nineties here that had been out of print for ages. This store was the main enabler for his daily escapism.

 

As usual, Morgan managed to look inconspicuous, ballcap and a full beard, regular street clothes. He even managed to loose the typical fed walk so many agents had. He waited until Jensen was looking, then he picked up a book, skimmed the pages and slipped a piece of paper between them. He never looked up, didn’t spare Jensen a single glance but the message was clear.

 

Slowly, Jensen meandered over to the shelf, picked up the book and let it fall open where the paper was lying as a bookmark.

 

_Time’s up_

 

That was all it said, in an almost intelligible scribble. _Time’s up_.

 

Jensen stared down at the book without really seeing it. He’d known Morgan was getting impatient. The two year mark of Jensen’s assignment was coming up in a few months and he hadn’t been able to give him much, despite Jared finally trusting him.

 

Bitterly, Jensen slammed the book shut and crammed it back into the shelf. He’d told Morgan, again and again, that he was still walking a tightrope. He’d tried to explain how limited his options were if he wanted his cover to remain intact. He’d tried to explain—at length—that he needed to be sure every information was known by at least one other person outside the inner circle or could’ve been overheard somewhere before he passed it on. He’d explained how Jared still had no real interest talking shop with Jensen despite his trust.

 

After the turning point in their relationship, when Jensen obviously hadn’t give up the drop point Jared had shown him as a final test, Jared had become more open about his business. That hadn’t meant that he’d suddenly started discussing his plans with Jensen. He told him about his day, sure, dropped names and locations, bitched about greedy business partners, and the FBI getting on his nerves. He’d even confirmed that he had a source in the FBI but it wasn’t concrete enough for Morgan to smoke out who it was despite the trap he set up. But Jared didn’t approach any of the people Morgan had advertised as snitches. Jensen had told Morgan that Jared knew it was a trap so he was even more careful than usual and Morgan had almost cursed his ear off and wanted details. But Jensen didn't have detail because Jensen wasn’t part of Jared’s crew.

 

Therein really lay the flaw of the plan. Jensen’s cover might be secure, he might sleep in Jared’s bed every night, but to Jared, he was something outside his illegal life. He was the beautiful armcandy he took to his legal functions, he was the pretty body who warmed his bed, he was the listener when he was stressed; he was the boyfriend. He was not part of Jared’s crew and Jared liked it that way. So did Campbell. Mostly. For Jensen and the FBI, it was disaster.

 

Jared might care for him, even love him in his own twisted way, but Jensen was there for fun and sex, not for business. Sure, Jensen caught the occasional snippet from Chad and the guys, but they were so vague and out of context, most of the time Morgan and his task force didn’t put them together until it was too late.

 

Yes, the knowledge Jensen provided helped to reconstruct a lot of the crimes that happened, but it didn’t help preventing them and it sure as hell didn’t make tangible evidence magically appear out of thin air.

 

Jared and his people were good and they were careful. Last fall, Jensen had managed to give the Task Force enough to catch Rosey red-handed and arrest him but the charges the Task Force could make stick weren’t too bad so Rosey plead guilty to the minor charges and went to prison for a ridiculously short sentence.

 

Only the knowledge that Rosey actually had a blast during the four months he was locked up, had made Jensen feel better. Which it shouldn’t. He was doing his job. But after a year of being Rosey’s friend—because if Jensen was honest with himself, he was long past the pretending—he couldn’t separate his personal feelings and his duty anymore.

 

He still helped build a case against Chad. Jensen had conveniently been on vacation with Jared when Chad was arrested but of course, they’d returned immediately. Jensen didn’t know the details but Sheppard came to Chad’s rescue and the trial had gone up in flames. Chad had walked away a free man. And Jensen had been relieved. He’d looked in the mirror and didn’t know who was looking back.

 

It got so bad he considered visiting his brother again. He hadn’t seen his family since he’d broken into Johnny’s house in the middle of the night and risked a breakfast with his parents. But he didn’t. There was the risk and the growing feeling of self-loathing Jensen couldn’t bring home. How could he look his father in the eye when he was crossing so many lines?

 

And now Morgan was pushing for information again. He’d never been particularly patient, always needed Jensen to remind him that he was playing a slow game here. Jensen had thought that Morgan had learned his lesson last year when one of their agents almost got killed but it didn’t look like it.

 

Jensen still remembered last summer, how Jared had tested him, giving him real information of a drug drop. Jared had brought Jensen to an actual drop off point at the lake and told him the date for the first drug deal going down there with his new Canadian friends. It was as much a peace offering as a test. Only Jensen hadn’t been the only one. The FBI had sent in another agent undercover as a smuggler who’d joined Jared’s crew. It had taken them a while to figure it out, but in the end, Chad had caught on, brought it to Jared and they’d set a trap. The humiliation the FBI suffered when they went after what they assumed was a big weapons shipment, only to find the gear for a big laser tag tournament—well, the local press hadn’t been kind. One of the journalists in Jared’s pocket had written about a witch hunt, seeking to discredit one of the youngest millionaire businessman in the state’s history, just because he came from a seedy background.

 

Morgan had been furious but during the ensuing damage control, Jensen had gotten a breather. And really, it wasn’t his fault when they sent incompetent agents into the field. For a while, Jensen’s pleas for more time had actually been heard.

 

The last few months though, Jared’s people had gotten away with increasingly outrageous jobs. Misha had blown up a drug dealer’s stash in the city. Chad had walked away from a weapons charge due to evidence tampering. Down in L.A., several port employes had lost fingers in “accidents”. The FBI actually hadn’t made that connection yet, but Jensen knew that one of Jared’s smuggling channels had dried up so Rosey had flown down to help the mysterious Cassidy—who Jensen had yet to meet—set up shop at the port of L.A.

 

Now, Morgan wanted something substantial and he had decided he wanted Misha. The explosion set off in the drug dealer’s place had damaged the small church next door. The press was hounding the FBI on this, so Morgan had demanded Misha’s head on a plate and Jensen had to deliver.

 

No one had been in the church at the time of the explosion, but the community was furious anyway. The increased press was putting more pressure on law enforcement. “Street Wars Take on New Dimension” “Not Even Faith is Safe Anymore”, “Police and FBI Helpless in the face of Crime”, and “Protect Our People and Our Faith” were just some of the headlines.

 

Misha had blown up the drug dealer’s stash because the guy hadn’t paid Jared his cut. Misha’s explosion had annihilated his supply and would have put him out of business—if the dealer had survived.

 

It wasn’t the first time he’d done something like that, but this time, the FBI had an eyewitness putting Misha at the scene of the crime. The man hadn’t seen him doing anything illegal, but he’d seen him there. Now all they needed was a piece of Misha’s C4 to compare it to the explosives.

 

With Misha’s presence at the crime scene, they just needed to know where he kept his supplies to get a warrant for the place. Jensen hadn’t found an indirect way to figure out where he stashed his explosives, he just knew Misha had several storage lockers rented through other people in the city. To figure out which one it was, he’d have to take a more direct approach. It was a risk he hadn’t wanted to take, but Morgan left him no choice. So Jensen ignored the danger and ignored the consequences. Morgan had been patient so far, but if Jensen wouldn't deliver now, he’d jeopardize his assignment. If Jensen Campbell would continue to be useless as an informant, Morgan had indicated he’d consider bringing him in. Not delivering Misha, Jensen thought, would get him dangerously close to getting pulled out. Quitting this mission was not an option, at least not until he had something to show for it. Or so Jensen told himself. If that meant putting Misha behind bars, so be it.

 

When Jensen got back to the mansion after his run in with Morgan, he called Misha.

 

“Jensen! What can I do for you on this lovely day?” Misha was his usual creepily cheerful self.

 

Jensen forced himself to relax and ignore that he was basically setting up someone he considered a friend for a very long jail sentence. “Hey Misha. I have a job coming up and I might need your kind of help.”

 

“For a safe?”

 

Jensen snorted. “Thanks for your trust in my abilities. No, it’s for a wall.”

 

“I’m intrigued,” Misha said. “I have a few things that could work. Why don’t we have coffee later? That small café on Fullerton.”

 

“Sure,” Jensen said. “I’d be grateful for some input.”

 

“Always happy to help. I’ll be there at four.” Then he hung up.

 

Well. Jensen still wasn’t sure what Misha did all the time, but he always seemed busy. Of Jared’s inner circle, he definitely spent the least amount of time at the mansion. If Jensen was being honest, he had never tried too hard to find out what he was up to, but honesty wasn’t really a priority for Jensen these days.

  
  


Jensen drove his bike downtown. Initially, Jared hadn’t liked him going off on his own, but he’d learned quickly that he wouldn’t be able to keep Campbell in a golden cage.

 

Misha was already waiting for him. He was dressed in his usual outfit of dark jeans, a dress shirt and a black sports jacket. Jensen didn’t think he’d ever seen him wearing anything else.

 

Misha greeted him with a wide smile. “C’mon. Let me show you where I keep the sparkles.”

 

Jensen snorted but followed him into the café. It was a small hipstery place and Misha led him straight through to the back with the bathrooms. He pushed open a door labeled _no exit_  and they walked into a back alley that lead to the back of a storage facility. With a wink Misha led him around a corner, obviously skirting the security camera’s range.

 

Instead of going for the doors, he walked to the side of the first long building containíng the storage units and started scaling a small metal ladder at the side. Jensen continued to follow him. On the roof, Misha walked about the space of four storage units, then he reached a roof hatch.

 

“This is one of my best kept secrets,” Misha whispered to Jensen with a conspiratory smirk.

 

Jensen mimed zipping his mouth shut.

 

Misha opened the hatch’s lock and slid inside. Jensen climbed down after him.

 

Down in the room, Misha turned on a light and Jensen looked around to see the himself surrounded with nondescript moving boxes. Almost all of them were half open; papers, magazines, and clothes spilling out of them.

 

“So,” Misha said expectantly, leaning back against a stack of boxes with his arms crossed over his chest.

 

“Shape charge,” Jensen said. “I need to blow a hole into a wall. I need something small but powerful that’ll direct its force into one direction.”

 

Slowly, Misha nodded his head. “That's not easy.”

 

Jensen grinned. “That’s why I asked you.”

 

Misha let out a laugh and clapped his hands.

  
  


Forty-five minutes later they left the storage unit the same way they had arrived. The only difference was that Jensen was carrying a John Varvatos shopping bag. If anyone looked inside, they’d see a dark sweater. Misha’s shape charge was carefully wrapped into it. Jensen’s real prize, however, was the address.

 

After he and Misha split up, he drove the bike out to the nature preserves west of the city. He had the whole drive to think about what he was going to do, because when he got there, Morgan would already be waiting for him. Jensen had called him the moment Misha had left from a phone he’d lifted from one of the café’s guests.

 

He tried not to second guess this. He was doing his job. Sending Misha to jail, sending all of them to jail, was his job. And they deserved it. They all broke the law. They all had blood on their hands.

 

It didn’t matter that they were good people. That they lived by a code. It certainly didn’t matter that Jensen liked them, considered them friends, even. They were criminals, a menace to society and they had to be put away.

 

Except how that wasn't really true. If there was one thing Jensen had realized in his time with the FBI, then it was that no matter how many bad guys you put away, new ones always popped up. That was why they usually focused on the most dangerous, nastiest people. And Jared and his people, well, they weren't actually so bad. There could be worse.

 

People like Pietro who Jensen thought he’d put behind bars because he was an unapologetic rapist. But no, fuckers like him got to walk.

 

Jensen shook his head and tried to focus on the road. His mind was going down a dangerous path. And when it came to Misha, well, the guy was unpredictable. This time, no one had been in the church, but there was no guarantee that next time there wouldn’t be casualties. Of all of Jared’s people, Misha was the most dangerous. Jensen refused to let himself regret sending him to prison.

 

Whatever that weird constricting feeling in his chest was, he pushed it away.

  
  


Morgan looked at the shape charge with a mix of worry and admiration. “This is good work.”

 

“I can’t let you take it,” Jensen said.

 

“What?”

 

“If it’s gone, it’ll raise suspicion. This is dangerous enough as it is.”

 

Morgan scrutinized him. “I thought Padalecki trusts you.”

 

“He does,” Jensen hissed. “But I’m not gonna risk making him suspicious again. So I’m taking the charge with me and I’m gonna use it on my next job.”

 

Morgan’s eyebrows drew together. “Yeah, about that. You need to tone that shit down. Jared’s paying for all your stuff, there’s no reason for you to keep robbing people.”

 

“It’s not like they don’t have it coming,” Jensen mumbled.

 

“What did you say?”

 

Jensen barely managed to suppress an eyeroll. “It’s part of my personality. He’d get suspicious if I changed now. Besides, the few necklaces I lift, their owners don’t miss them. Insurance pays for them anyway.”

 

Morgan snorted. “The white collar division is breathing down my neck. One of their New York agents is liking you for a lot of stuff that went down last year. I’ve been trying to stall, saying they can’t interfere with an actual mob case, but he’s got his eyes on you.”

 

“Let him come.” Jensen gave Morgan an annoyed look. “He doesn’t have enough on me to send me to jail and if anything it’ll help sell my cover even more.”

 

“You keep giving me lip and I just might let him have you.” Morgan still sounded pissed, but his voice was lacking the bite that would make Jensen nervous. “And don’t underestimate Agent DeKay, he’s like a dog with a bone.”

 

“Yeah, yeah.” Jensen started walking back towards his bike. He couldn’t be gone too long.

 

“Jensen!” Morgan called after him.

 

Jensen looked back over his shoulder.

 

“This is the beginning, okay? You’ll be done soon.”

 

Shaking his head, Jensen turned around. This wouldn’t be the beginning of anything. Misha wasn’t connected to the operation in any way. He was a friend whose hobby happened to overlap with the dirty work Jared needed done but that was about it. If they’d manage to arrest Chad or Gen, people with real influence and power, that might be different. Misha would just be a win to show the public, another criminal off the street. Jared would find someone else to take his place. If he’d let him go to jail in the first place.

 

Jensen stopped. The evidence would be foolproof. As long as they didn’t tamper with it, there was only one way Misha could avoid jail short of going on the run. With startling clarity, Jensen realized what would happen. He wondered how he hadn’t thought of it before and if that was because he didn’t want to sentence a man to die.

 

Abruptly, Jensen turned around and walked back to Morgan who hadn’t moved yet.

 

“You gotta protect him. Nothing can go into the system, everything needs to be on paper.”

 

Morgan looked at him in confusion. “Who?”

 

“The witness.”

 

“The Marshals know how to do their job, Jensen.”

 

Jensen shook his head. “I thought you knew not to underestimate them. Trust me, Jared will do everything to keep Misha out of jail.”

 

“Alright, alright.” Morgan raised his hands placatingly. “I’ll pass on your message but they know how to deal with situations like this.”

 

Jensen walked away before he could say something derisive about the US Marshals service. He’d had a case go south before because a witness got killed. The Marshalls weren’t infallible.

 

He tried to tell himself that it wasn’t his problem anymore, that it was out of his hands, but he had a feeling it wouldn’t be so easy.

  
  


To say Jared took the news of Misha’s arrest a few days later badly would be a slight understatement. Sort of like saying the Titanic colliding with the iceberg had been a little fender bender.

 

Jensen had never seen Jared so furious. A bottle sailed across the room and Sam was so concerned with Misha, she hadn’t even batted an eye. Jensen did his best to hide his unease about the fierce determination he saw in Jared’s eyes.

 

Armed with the forensic evidence that it was indeed Misha’s C4, Misha was arrested with a multi-million dollar bail Jared paid immediately through several shell companies, and the Attorney General was putting the case together. The eye witness, the only one who could actually place Misha at the scene of the crime, was put into protective custody.

 

While Jared was fuming and talking to his lawyers and scheming with Rosey and Misha alike, Jensen tried to tell Morgan again that protective custody wouldn’t be enough and why was Misha released on bail anyway? (Much later, Jensen found out that the judge frequented a high end brothel that was run under Jared’s protection. Go figure.) Until the trial, the witness needed to be hidden far out of Jared’s reach. Morgan assured Jensen, again, that the Marshals were handling it.

 

Jensen had never seen the crew so busy. He had no doubt they were still trying to avert Misha going to jail. Illinois didn’t have the death penalty, but if the charges stuck, Misha was facing at least ten years in prison. The only way to be sure that didn’t happen was eliminating the witness.

 

It was after another late night meeting that Jensen sat in bed with his book open in his lap, waiting for Jared to come out of the bathroom. He hadn’t read a single page.

 

Rationally, this was easy. Misha had to go to jail. Jared might have enough control over him to stop him from intentionally burning half of Chicago down, but there were casualties. Hell, the financial damage alone was devastating, but in the last fire, a man had died. He’d been a drug dealer, trying to raise an independent business, but whatever his crimes were, he hadn’t deserved to be burned alive.

 

Jensen waited until Jared came out of the bathroom and slid into bed next to him.

 

“So,” he started, while Jared plucked the book from his hands and rolled on top of Jensen.

 

Jensen threaded his hands into Jared’s hair, scratching along his scalp with blunt nails. “Any closer to dealing with the whole Misha situation?”

 

Jared’s expression darkened and he leaned in to kiss Jensen without answering.

 

“Dammit, Jared, he’s my friend too.”

 

For a moment, Jared paused. Considered.

 

“I thought we had a lead,” he finally said, burying his face in the crook of Jensen’s neck and sucking what was sure to be a spectacular hickey in the skin there. “Turns out, the Marshals are being very careful this time. We’ll have to get creative.”

 

“Isn’t there another way?” Jensen asked.

 

Jared reared his head back quickly, regarding Jensen with narrowed eyes. “What do you mean, ‘another way’?”

 

Jensen tried to shrug casually, brush off his clammy hands in the sheets. “I don’t know. Get rid of the evidence. Instead of, you know, killing an innocent person.”

 

With a scoff, Jared rolled off of him. “We can’t steal the evidence. It’s already processed and documented.”

 

Jensen couldn't let it go. No matter what he’d done, this was the one line he had never crossed. Would never cross. “But the guy’s just a guy. He’s got nothing to do with this.”

 

Jared looked at Jensen, eyes hard. “I won’t let Misha go to jail.”

 

And there it was. The hard truth Jensen so often managed to ignore.

 

In the silence, Jensen made himself react. “I get it. Still sucks.”

 

Jared quirked an eyebrow. “I know. Life’s hard that way. But I knew you’d understand.”

 

Jensen told himself that Jared didn’t know him, not really. He only knew Jensen Campbell. Campbell, who understood that when it came to your friends and family, there was no line. No too far. Campbell understood that in protecting friends and family, there were sacrifices. Casualties.

 

When Jared reached for him again, Jensen rolled over on his belly, rubbing his ass against Jared’s groin to let him know he wasn’t turning away from him. With a pleased grumble, Jared pushed a knee between Jensen’s legs while he reached towards the nightstand for the lube.

 

Jensen closed his eyes and tried to lose himself in the sensation of Jared fucking him. For the first time in a long time it didn’t work, but Jared was too caught up in his own pleasure to notice Jensen didn’t come.

 

After, in the darkness with Jared’s even breathing next to him, Jensen wondered how the hell he was going to come out of this with his sanity intact.

  
  


A week full of tension, curt conversations and multiple rough and brief fucks later, the safehouse with the key witness in it blew up.

 

Jensen was in the city, having a coffee in one of his favorite cafés and reading a book, when Jared called.

 

“Sweetheart, come home and make yourself pretty. We’re going out tonight.”

 

“I’m always pretty,” Jensen shot back. “What’s the occasion?”

 

“There was an explosion last night,” Jared said, voice filled with satisfaction and Jensen immediately knew what he was talking about. “We’re celebrating Misha’s freedom, since they don’t have a case anymore, and we’re going out to celebrate.”

 

Jensen felt like he’d been punched in the gut. Somehow, they had found the witness and Misha had blown him to bits. He’d known this was going to happen and yet he’d still hoped there'd be another way. Had hoped the Marshals would keep their word.

 

“Jensen?” Jared’s voice sounded distant through the phone’s speakers. “You still there?”

 

“Yeah,” Jensen replied automatically. “Sorry, it’s busy out here. I’ll be home in a bit.”

 

He closed his eyes and tried to stay calm. Willy was just outside. Jensen couldn’t let his anger show. He forced himself to empty his coffee and then pack his book away. He left a generous tip and walked outside.

 

Jensen had warned Morgan that it would happen, but the Marshals had assured Morgan they’d keep the witness safe. Of course they hadn’t. Fuck.

 

He kept a calm facade while Willy drove him home. Jensen pretended to be immersed in his book. That night, he drank more than usual under the pretense of celebrating. He was so wasted that he passed out in the car and while he woke up enough to get into bed, he fell asleep halfway through Jared fucking him. Jared wasn’t happy about it, but Jensen told him to deal. To make it up to him, he gave him an extra long blowjob in the shower the next morning even though the tiles were a bitch on his knees. It wasn’t even close enough to what he deserved.

  
  


Jensen waited four days until he called Morgan. The FBI still hadn’t found the mole who’d given up the witness’s location, but Jensen wasn’t so sure there had been one. The way Misha and Jared had talked about it, it had seemed somebody had hacked their way in. Aldis hadn’t been involved, and the Marshals claimed to keep everything on paper when it came to Jared, but somehow Misha knew someone who got it.

 

When Jensen voiced these thoughts, Morgan promised to look into it, but he didn’t sound optimistic.

 

Jensen didn't like it, didn’t like the whole thing and he thought he’d explode if he had to stay in the mansion for one more day and see all their smug faces. So he took a crappy job, just to get out of the mansion. Criminals dying was one thing, but an innocent grocery store worker who’d been in the wrong place at the wrong time and then decided to do the right thing—that was something Jensen just couldn’t pretend to stomach.

 

The job was in New York and there it was easy to hook up with a few people he knew from the old Campbell days and before Jensen knew it he’d been in the city two weeks. Jared was riding a high getting Misha’s charges dropped and had a lot of catching up to do at his legitimate office, so he called Jensen every day without pressing for him to get back. But Jensen missed him.

 

At first he tried to tell himself it was because he wasn’t used to sleeping alone anymore. Jared might have a gigantic bed, but they always ended up close, Jared’s hand somewhere on his body. Then Jensen told himself he missed the sex. The dogs. The company whenever he wanted. The great shower. The pool. Sam’s delicious food.

 

In the end, he had to accept that he missed Jared, period. He wasn’t pretending, hadn’t been for a long time. Jared was a criminal. A killer who pretended to have a set of morals he still bent for those closest to him. Jensen had tried to avoid thinking about it, but being away from Jared, missing him, it was an in-your-face reminder Jensen really didn’t need.

 

And if he went out to get drunk, in the same little bar he went on his last bender, well, Burt, the bartender, knew him, and he was just as sympathetic at listening like the last time.

 

Unfortunately, this time there was a drunk guy who didn’t take no for an answer.

 

“Let me buy you a beer, gorgeous.”

 

Jensen stared at the bottles behind the bar, and twirled his glass in his hands. “I already said no twice, asshole. Three’s the magic number, so you better fuck off now.”

 

From the other end of the bar Burt looked over with a concerned expression. Jensen raised a hand to wave him off. He could handle himself.

 

He felt a hand land on his knee and creep up his thigh.

 

“C’mon,” the guy wheedled. “You look like someone really pissed you off. How about I cheer you up?”

 

“ _You_  piss me off,” Jensen said and gripped the guy’s hand.

 

He’d tried to be polite, but really, he was drunk and the guy was an annoying asshole. So Jensen twisted the guy’s hand back, slammed his face into the counter and smashed the bottle of Jack over his head. Jensen thought Burt was prepared to let it go, but then the guy’s friends got involved, and really, it went downhill from there. Burt didn’t intervene, but that was probably because Jensen had taken a barstool as a weapon.

 

Jensen wasn’t entirely conscious anymore when the police showed up but that was the alcohol's fault. The guy and his friends were all lying on the floor.

 

Burt leaned over him, patted his cheek. “Jensen? You still awake, sugar?”

 

He wasn’t. Not really. Fuck.

 

The next thing he knew, the police dragged him outside. Rather ungently. Jensen was indignant. He was Jensen Campbell, for fuck’s sake, who did they think they were? They’d better get their fucking hands off of him, or they’d get the surprise of a lifetime. No, really, the people he knew…

 

Jensen wasn’t exactly sure what happened after that, but he ended up handcuffed in the back of the squad car. He closed his eyes and wondered if this was what rock bottom felt like.

  
  


At the station, Jensen had sobered up enough to fix one of the police officers with a glare. “It was self-defense.”

 

The officer snorted. “Yeah, beating four guys unconscious, and destroying half a bar in the process, that’s some self-defense.”

 

“I want my phone call,” Jensen said petulantly.

 

He got it.

 

Jared answered on the third ring. Not too bad, considering it was three in the morning.

 

“What?” Oh, he sounded angry.

 

Jensen sighed. “Hey, it’s me.”

 

“What happened to your phone?” Jared asked sharply, and there was some rustling on the other end of the line.

 

Jensen could see it, Jared sitting up, turning on the light and dragging a hand through his hair. Or maybe he was already up and getting dressed.

 

“Lost it in the fray.”

 

“What? Jensen—”

 

“Look,” Jensen interrupted him, “I don’t have much time and Officer, uh,” Jensen squinted at the cop’s name tag, “Ryan over here, he doesn’t look very pleased. So, if you could just get me a lawyer? I’m in the twelfth precinct and they’re holding me for…” he trailed off, looking at Officer Ryan expectantly.

 

Ryan gave another annoyed snort and said, “Drunk and disorderly, assault with a weapon—”

 

“Weapon?”

 

“You used a broken bottle and the bar stools, remember? You also insulted and attacked an officer and urinated against a police car.”

 

“Ugh, fine.” Jensen spoke into the phone again. “Drunk and disorderly and assault. And some other stuff. So if you know someone in New York…”

 

It was quiet on the line, then Jared took a deep breath. Probably to calm himself.

 

“Are you alright?” His voice sounded pressed. Yeah, Jared was furious.

 

“I’m fine. Just a few scratches and I’m gonna have one hell of a headache tomorrow. Look, just tell me if you know someone or if I need to get my own lawyer.”

 

“Your own lawyer… You must’ve hit your head worse than you thought. Sheppard is flying out right now.”

 

Dial tone.

 

Ryan pulled a fake-sympathetic grimace. “That didn’t sound good.”

 

Jensen leaned back and closed his eyes for a moment. “No. No, it did not. But hey, my lawyer? He’s gonna make your life miserable. So you know, no reason to look so smug.”

 

Ryan scowled and Jensen just laughed. “Anywhere I can crash until he gets here?”

 

“Oh yeah,” Ryan said, roughly pulling him up. “There’s a nice spot down in holding for you.”

 

Jensen could barely keep his eyes open while he stumbled down the stairs. He didn’t really listen to whatever smartass comment Officer Ryan sent him into the cell with. Jensen just went for the nearest cot. He had at least six hours before Sheppard would get here so he could try to sleep off some of the booze.

  
  


Sheppard got him out of the station five hours later. Jensen didn’t ask and Sheppard didn’t explain. He just told Jensen that the charges were dropped and to keep his temper in check the next time. He didn’t like to be woken late on a weeknight. Then he herded Jensen into a taxi that took them to a private airport. Jensen fell asleep on the plane.

  
  


“What the fuck?”

 

Jensen sighed. “Can we do this after I showered? I stink.”

 

Jared wrinkled his nose. “Yes, you do. Go clean up.”

 

“If you sound like a parent, you can bet your ass you’re not gonna get any in the near future. I’m not into incest, you know.”

 

Jensen should have known that Jared was too pissed to let it go. While there were worse things than getting his brain fucked out mercilessly in the shower, he was still hung over and his whole body hurt from the fight. Jensen’s bruises were hard to miss, but instead of taking it easy, Jared just made new ones to cover the old ones up.

 

“You’re an asshole,” Jensen panted out afterwards, when he was leaning against the shower wall, Jared a heavy weight against his back, and trying to catch his breath.

 

“So are you,” Jared said and bit a mark into the back of his neck. “Now tell me what the fuck happened.”

 

Angrily, Jensen shoved Jared off. He couldn’t exactly tell Jared the truth, so he tried to make up a believable lie.

 

“Nothing.”

 

So Jensen hadn’t found a good reason for going on a bender all of a sudden.

 

Jared followed him out the shower and began toweling himself off. “Don’t fucking lie to me. I told you—”

 

“Yeah, yeah.”

 

They stared at each other for a moment in silence. Jared’s nostrils were flaring and all his muscles were tensed while he angrily fastened a towel around his waist. He looked livid, more than before. Jensen knew Jared really detested not knowing what was going on in Jensen’s head, which was just great. Jared’s desire to find out every little detail about Jensen would get him into an early grave on day.

 

Jensen bought time by walking out into the bedroom and to the closet, pulling out some clothes.

 

“I was at a bar, a guy came on to me. I didn’t like him, but he didn’t care. So I beat him up. There’s nothing more going on, Jared.”

 

Jared snorted. “You were piss drunk. I saw the pictures, Jensen. You beat those guys up good. Could’ve almost been Rosey’s work. I didn't even know you had it in you.” Jared paused and Jensen could feel his stare boring into his back. “And you’re not like that.”

 

No, he wasn’t. “I just—,” Jensen blurted out and before he managed to stop himself.

 

“What? Just what Jensen?” Jared’s voice was deceptively soft.

 

Jensen tried to rack his brain for an answer but there was nothing he could come up with. He just knew he needed to get out, needed to get away before he turned into someone he couldn’t recognize anymore. He needed something grounding, something familiar.

 

“My family,” Jensen said and he wanted to kick himself for it immediately. But in for a pound… “I miss my family.”

 

Behind him, Jared was quiet. Then he asked, “Your family? Your dead father and your mother who you hate?”

 

Jensen took a deep breath. He could salvage this. “My sister, you ass. She’s my family.”

 

More silence and when Jensen turned around there was a weird expression on Jared’s face. He almost looked like he was hurt. He got himself under control pretty quickly though.

 

“So invite her here. I can get her here by private jet in—”

 

“No!” Jensen stopped when he saw Jared’s surprised expression. He tried not to panic. Jared could never meet Campbell’s sister, no way he was letting someone pretend to be her and get dragged into this mess.

 

“Look, there’s a reason I sent her to Australia. She has a shot at growing up without any of this, and I don’t want to tempt her, okay?”

 

“I thought you liked your life.” There was a rather accusatory tone in Jared’s voice. Time to placate.

 

“I _love_  my life,” Jensen said and walked over to Jared, leaning against his bare chest. Jared remained stiff. Time to get out the big guns.

 

“But I’m me,” Jensen continued, speaking softly against Jared’s neck. “I love what I do and I’m good at it. I have you. But Kelly isn’t made for this and I don’t want her to be tempted by the lifestyle. I mean, I send her money, but she does have pretty romanticized notions about our life. Plus, I’m pretty sure Chad would try to get in her pants.”

 

Jared chuckled and Jensen relaxed. He reached for Jared’s hands and intertwined their fingers. “Look, I appreciate it, I do, but I don’t want her here. Not with all the shit that’s going on and not with the Feds watching. I don’t want her to become an accessory or have her be in any kind of danger. And despite your excellent protection, there’s always a risk.”

 

Jared’s arms came around Jensen then, drawing him in tight. “I get it. But you want to see her. So why don’t you fly out to visit her?”

 

Jensen buried his face in Jared’s neck and thought about it. Flying to Australia for a week or two, relaxing, getting away from it all.

 

“I’d love to,” he said. “But I’ll miss you.”

 

Jared took Jensen’s face into his hands and tilted it up. Then he kissed him, long and thorough. “I’ll miss you too. But I don’t want to see you like this. And don’t even try deny it, she’s not the only reason you went on a bender.”

 

Jensen froze. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

 

“Oh please.” Jared took a few steps back, leaned against the dresser and crossed his arms in front of his chest. It was an intimidating pose. “Don’t think for one second there’s something going on with you I don’t notice.”

 

Something cold and sharp ran down Jensen’s spine. If that were true…

 

“I didn’t talk about it, because I thought you’d gotten over it on your own, but last night shows you haven’t.”

 

Jensen swallowed.

 

“Really, Jensen, you’re such a fucking hypocrite,” Jared said, his eyes hard, a cruel twist at his mouth.

 

“What?”

 

“You still think you’re better than us,” Jared spat out. “The high and mighty art thief, too good for us common criminals. You steal from the rich, like a regular Robin Hood, except oh wait, you don’t give to the poor.”

 

Jensen opened his mouth to say what he didn’t know, but Jared just talked him over.

 

“So you have your lines, but so do we.” Jared paused. “You’re no better than us, Jensen. And it’s fucking time you come down from your high horse.”

 

“You kill people.” It came out without Jensen’s approval. He hadn’t meant to say it, but it was the one thing he just couldn't let go. That he held on to, to stay sane.

 

Jared made a dismissive gesture. “I do what needs to be done. I never killed anyone who didn’t deserve it. The world is a jungle and sometimes violence is the only way to survive. You know this as well as I do.”

 

The grocery store worker hadn’t needed to die. An innocent man, a casualty in Jared’s games of power. Jensen didn’t say it, bit the inside of his mouth and tried to find a way to de-escalate the situation. For the first time since he’d started this madness, he came up blank.

 

“Oh, I see,” Jared said, slowly and deliberately. “You think I shouldn’t have killed an innocent man to keep Misha out of jail.”

 

“If you come with the argument of casualties in a war, Jared, I swear—”

 

Jared cut him off with a harsh laugh. “No. Because contrary to you, I know exactly who I am. I know where my priorities are. And yes, there’s a line—there has to be. But I’d cross it for my family anytime. Because your family, either by blood or by choice is what matters most. Why build any of this if I can’t share it? Tell me, Jensen, do you have a line? What would you do to save your family? What would you do to the guy who’d threaten your sister?”

 

Jensen didn’t have to think about it. It was easy. Campbell was loyal. He’d be selfish, put personal relationships above the law. The problem was that so would Jensen. Your sister, Jared had asked. Thinking of Cat in danger… yeah, Jensen would pull the trigger.

 

Whatever Jared saw on Jensen’s face, it must be enough. “Thought so.”

 

The silence stretched out.

 

“What do you want from me?” Jensen finally asked.

 

Jared pushed himself off the dresser and slowly walked towards Jensen. “I want you to admit you’re no better than us. No different from us. You’re one of us, baby, always have been, no matter how much you like to pretend and hide behind your sophisticated art.”

 

Jensen forced himself to cross the last foot separating them and leaned lightly against Jared, feeling his body heat. He breathed in deep. Once. Twice. He needed to find his equilibrium. He couldn’t. Then he needed Campbell’s.

 

Like a shield, he pulled Campbell tighter around him, buried everything that was Jensen Ackles deep down inside.

 

It was scary how easy it was.

 

Another breath. Then he turned his head, pushed his nose under Jared’s jaw. One of Jared’s big hands came up to settle on his hip, a hot possessive brand. Even during a fight, Jared couldn’t stay away. It made Jensen preen. Something inside of him was reassured, settled into his default smugness.

 

“My art is still better than you guys and your boring mob stuff.”

 

Silence, then Jared barked out a surprised laugh.

 

Jensen pulled back, looked up to Jared. “But you're right. I have a line and there are people I’d cross it for in a heartbeat.” Then he pursed his mouth. “Happy now?”

 

Jared kissed him, long and hard and unforgiving. Jensen was not in the mood to yield, couldn’t make himself give an inch. Jared pulled back, traced Jensen’s bottom lip with his thumb.

 

“Go visit your sister. Get out of the city for a while.”

 

“Out of your hair?” Jensen asked, and he meant it to be teasing, but it came out hard and needling.

 

Jared shrugged casually, in the way when he wanted to teach someone a lesson, wanted them to fall in line. Jensen knew, he’d studied his body language closely.

 

Fuck. Jensen needed to give, but Campbell was too proud.

 

“You look like you need it. And I have a tough month coming up. I’m not gonna need your judging face hanging over me.” He delivered the sentence like a back handed slap. Unconcerned, relaxed and with biting force.

 

Jensen forced himself to nod. “Sounds like an excellent time for me to leave then.”

 

Silence stretched out again. Jared’s eyes were hard, his fingers on Jensen’s hip rigid. Like a bucket of water emptied over his head, it dawned on Jensen that he might have pushed too far. He’d let his emotions cloud his judgement, his abilities, and Jared was annoyed with him. Pissed. Basically had just told him he wasn’t in the mood to put up with bitchy Jensen.

 

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

 

Damage control.

 

Jensen forced his face to remain pissed, then he flicked his eyes down to Jared’s chest and back up, lingering on his mouth before looking him in the eyes. He gripped Jared’s shoulder, dug his fingers hard in the muscle.

“Okay. Now take me to bed.”

 

Jared’s nostrils flared, but content settled in his features. “It’s the middle of the day.”

 

Jensen raised an eyebrow. “Since when do you care?”

 

“I have an appointment.”

 

“Cancel it,” Jensen said and tugged Jared’s towel off. “I feel like we should have makeup sex.”

 

Jared groaned when Jensen started stroking his dick. “You’re gonna beg for it?”

 

Jensen pulled back to lick his lips. Then he sank down on his knees. “No. But I am going to make this up to you.”

 

Jared didn’t go to his appointment. Instead he fucked Jensen’s face until Jensen almost choked on his dick, came down Jensen’s throat, and then threw Jensen on the bed and rimmed him until Jensen did beg. For Jared’s dick, for release, anything. Jared made him suffer, drew it out. Jensen screamed himself hoarse until Jared finally let him come on his dick.

  
  


The next day, Jensen sat in front of his laptop, cursor hovering over booking a flight to Australia. The thing was, his parents’ summer vacation was coming up soon. Every year, they flew to Hawaii.

 

Of course, Jensen couldn’t fly straight to Hawaii. He would need to get on a plane to Australia. But just getting onto a plane to Hawaii again, spend a few days with his family… it was insane but he was teetering on the edge  and if he didn’t fine something to hold on to he’d tumble straight down the rabbit hole.

 

Jensen reached for his phone and called Willy. “I need to go into the city.”

 

“I’ll be there in five,” Willy said.

 

Sometimes Jensen wondered if there would ever come a time he’d catch Willy unavailable, when he was in the shower or asleep. So far, he’d never been more than five minutes away.

 

He let Willy drive him downtown under the pretense of buying clothes for Australia. He picked up a burner from a street vendor and called his father. If his travel plans fell through it was better his mother didn’t know.

 

“Ackles.”

 

Fuck. Jensen had missed his family.

 

“Hey. It’s me.”

 

There was a pause before his father answered. “Jensen. It’s good to hear from you, son. Are you alright?”

 

“Yeah, I’m good. Listen, I was wondering. When are you guys doing your summer vacation this year?”

 

“The first and second week in June,” his father said. “Why do you ask?”

 

“I might be able to stop by. It’s just nothing I can promise yet, so don’t tell mom.” Jensen hesitated. “I miss you guys.”

 

“It’s not too dangerous?”

 

Jensen wouldn’t suggest it if it wasn’t. His father should know that. “I know what I’m doing. And I would never put you in danger.”

 

“I don’t mean it like that,” his father said and Jensen rolled his eyes.

 

Just like when Jensen had just started out in the FBI, and his dad had always questioned him. He never said much, but he’d always demanded effort and accomplishment from his children. Well, Johnny and Jensen really. Cat was the baby.

 

“Yeah, okay,” Jensen finally said. “Hopefully I’ll see you soon.”

 

“Take care, son.”

 

Jensen hung up. Hearing his dad call him ‘son’ turned his stomach into hard knots. He threw the phone away and called Willy on his regular one. Time to go home and plan. Hopefully the Australian summer—well, winter—holidays would coincide with his family’s vacation plans.

  
  


“June? You want to fly out in six weeks?” Jared asked when Jensen told him over dinner. Sam had outdone herself with her steak this time. “I would have thought you’d want to leave sooner.”

 

“Well, that’s when Kelly’s winter break is,” Jensen said, trying to ignore the sting of Jared’s words. He wanted him gone sooner than later and it hurt, more than Jensen would’ve thought. And unfortunately, it wasn’t only his ego that was bruised. “If I go then, we can actually travel a bit, do stuff together.”

 

Jensen hated that he had to explain himself, like he was excusing himself from staying. He tried to tell himself it was normal to feel Campbell’s pain, but when it came to the emotions he’d felt, they’d always been his own.

 

“Winter? In June?” Chad asked with his mouth full and Gen rolled her eyes.

 

“It’s Australia, you numbnut,” she said with fond exasperation.

 

Even after almost two years with them, Jensen still hadn’t figured out if the two of them had ever hooked up. Jared just smiled cryptically whenever Jensen asked. He should take Gen out and ply her with alcohol.

 

“How long did you plan on going?” Jared asked.

 

Jensen looked at him challengingly. “Three weeks.” If Jared wanted Campbell gone, he’d have to live with the duration. Jensen wondered if he would mind. Usually Jensen’s trips didn’t take longer than a week, two at a maximum.

 

The twitch in Jared’s jaw was the only indication he didn’t like Jensen’s answer. “Do you want to take the jet?” was all he asked, but Jensen saw the peace offering in it.

 

Jensen suppressed a pleased smile and shook his head. “Nah, I’ll take a commercial flight. Besides, what if you need it?”

 

Jared shrugged dismissively. “I could get by, but okay. I’ll have Katie book you and Willy’s ticket and—”

 

“Whoa,” Jensen said and held up a hand. Katie was Jared’s office assistant and handled travel itineraries and such. “Willy?” Jensen asked, because there was no way he could take a bodyguard. His whole plan hinged on him going alone.

 

“Jensen, I won’t let you go alone.”

 

“Why the fuck not? I go off alone all the time,” Jensen bit out.

 

Chad and Gen exchanged a look. Jensen saw her tilt her head trying to signal Chad to get out but Chad leaned back in his chair.

 

“You’re not being subtle,” Jared told them. “Out.”

 

Chad huffed and said “good luck.”

 

Jensen smiled when he realized Chad had meant Jared. Gen just patted Jared on the shoulder. Jared looked after them incredulously.

 

“Even your people know you’ll lose this one. I don’t care how worried you are. It’s sweet, yes, but I don’t need a bodyguard,” Jensen said and crossed his arms in front of his chest. “End of discussion.”

 

Jared glared. “We haven't discussed anything yet.”

 

The chair scraped loudly over the floor when Jensen stood up. “And we won’t. Not this. I’m going to Australia, not into a war zone. Everything that’s going to be dangerous down there, Willy won’t be able to protect me from. Or do you want him to go snake hunting?”

 

Jared opened his mouth for an angry reply, but Jensen held up his hand. “No. Just no. You send someone after me, and I won’t come back. Matter of fact, because we’re even having this conversation I’m sleeping in the guestroom tonight.”

 

No matter how pissed Jensen was, he never tried to ban Jared from his own bed. He did occasionally move out though. It was part of Campbell’s drama queen persona and they always had awesome makeup sex, so it wasn’t necessarily a bad thing.

 

It might be a risk, to be pissy now, but there were things where Jensen had to put his foot down and Jared had already indicated with the jet he’d forgiven him. And if a night alone gave Jensen a much needed break to try to regain his equilibrium, well, he tried not to think about that too hard. Besides, Jared would enjoy fucking him into submission the next day as much as Jensen enjoyed getting fucked hard and thorough, so really, everybody won.

  
  


Knowing that he’d be able to escape for a few weeks lightened Jensen’s mood considerably. Maybe it was also that spring hit the city in full swing and Jensen went running with the dogs every day.

 

He only took a short job in the city to get some vacation money together and Jared appreciated his availability. Things between them calmed down and Jensen went with the demands of Jared’s life with less complaining. Jared threw him the occasional knowing grin but didn’t comment. For a few weeks, it was smooth sailing.

 

Jared and the guys were in a good mood; for once, everything went according to plan. Sometimes, when a few days went by like this, Jared going to his regular job, Jensen lazing around, reading or shopping, a good dinner and drinks at the end of the day, Jensen could almost forget.

 

But then Rosey showed up with bloody knuckles and Jared left in the middle of the night. Chad took hushed phone calls and Gen’s heels clicked louder when she hurried through the mansion.

One afternoon, Alona called him as Kelly and told him she’d gone surfing. It was the code for Jensen to get himself a burner and call Morgan. Just as well, Jensen hadn’t told him about his vacation yet.

 

Like always, Morgan cut right to the chase. “After the mess with Collins and the witness, the Mayor is breathing down my neck. You need to give us something else.”

 

“Hey, I’m doing my best here,” Jensen protested. “Not my fault you guys can’t do your job.”

 

“Jensen. I mean it. I know what you’re doing is dangerous, but we need a few new ideas here.” Morgan’s tone was serious and Jensen banged his fist against the wall of the coffee shop bathroom he was in. It made the tiles rattle.

 

It wasn’t as if he didn’t have ideas. He’d tried telling himself he needed more time to work on them, but really, they’d work out or they wouldn’t. And it was obvious that whatever the task force came up with didn’t have any impact at all.

 

“There’s actually one thing I thought could work,” Jensen said reluctantly. “We should meet.”

 

They set a date three days later and met up in the changing rooms at Macy’s.

  
  


“Dale Milligan. He’s serving a stretch somewhere in Florida,” Jensen said through the thin wall separating the cabins at the far end of the deserted changing rooms. The advantage of Wednesday morning shopping.

 

“And who is Dale Milligan?” Morgan asked.

 

Jensen took off his clothes and started trying on the pants he’d taken with him.

 

“Jake Abel’s half brother. They didn’t grow up together but they were close the past couple of years. Milligan was caught red handed in a chop shop a while back. He only got eighteen months, so they didn’t interfere, but Jared doesn’t have any friends down in Florida. If you threaten to get Milligan transferred to a prison where people have a beef with him, Jake might be willing to roll on Jared.”

 

After a silence, in which Jensen tried on a new pair of jeans and a dark button down, Morgan finally answered.

 

“I thought you said Abel was an overeager puppy trying to please and make the inner circle.”

 

“I did,” Jensen said, pulling off the shirt. “But he’s the closest one to Jared who might give you something. With the rest, you don’t even need to try.”

 

There was a thunk, like a head softly hitting the wall of the dressing room and then a sigh. “Fine. I’ll see what we can do. Anything else?”

  
“Last weekend, Wick made a powerplay.”

 

T.S. Wick was Chicago’s number three heroin dealer. Well, now he was the number two.

 

“How did Padalecki take that?” Morgan asked thoughtfully.

 

“He wasn’t pleased.” Jensen decided on a pair of jeans and a shirt. “He’s going to meet with him sometime this weekend, probably on Jared’s turf. If Wick makes him a good offer, Jared might let it slide. Wick is powerful, ruthless and he keeps quarreling to a minimum because no one has the guts to rip him off.”

 

It was the argument Chad had made, when he suggested Jared shouldn’t kill Wick. Jared had still been furious about being disrespected, so Chad had suggested Wick should pay him a hefty sum in apology. Final discussion would go down sometime during the weekend, but if Wick didn’t want to be on Jared’s bad side, he’d be sufficiently apologetic.

 

“Can you get in on that meet?”

 

“No.” Jensen picked up the stuff he wanted to buy. “But I’ll give you a call when I know a time. Place is probably going to be the Nine.”

 

Surveillance in a club was a bitch, which was why Jared liked it so much as a meeting place, but Morgan had told him they were trying to get an agent in as a waitress. Jared’s people were hanging out at the Nine often enough and Jensen was pretty sure Chad and Rosey had some money invested in the club.

 

“You should really get more into the business.” Morgan’s tone was reproachful.

 

“Fuck you,” Jensen shot back. “Jared doesn’t want me there, and you damn well know that my cover doesn’t make it easy for me to be interested. You were the one who suggested playing the boyfriend, so deal with it.”

 

There was a short pause, before Morgan answered. “Yeah, I know. And we’ll see. We have another agent in there. Maybe they’ll give us what we need.”

 

Jensen froze. “You sent _another_  agent in?”

 

“Look, it's not like your intel isn’t very valuable, but we need to explore all options. And since the task force doesn’t know about you, they wanted to act.”

 

Jensen snorted. “So who are you getting killed this time?”

 

“No one’s getting killed.” Morgan sounded pissed. “And you don’t need to know. The less people know, the better. You know how it goes.”

 

“You don’t trust me?” Fuck this shit. Jensen was working his ass off and Morgan didn’t even trust him? “Besides, how am I supposed to save their ass when they inevitably fuck up?”

 

Morgan sighed. “They won’t fuck up. We took a page out of your book actually, so it’s someone who worked undercover as a gun runner before. We’re giving her a fake prison sentence in Canada to explain her absence for the last year and she’ll be good.”

 

It was a good idea. But then, the best ideas tended to go wrong with Jared.

 

“Double check where you put her jail history,” Jensen said, pulling on his shoes. “I’m pretty sure at least one of his Canadian drug suppliers did time.”

 

“We know.” Morgan sounded exasperated which Jensen thought was really unwarranted, given the task force’s previous fuck ups.

 

“Well, then you won’t need me in the near future,” Jensen said, pissed and not sure why. “Which is good timing because I’m going on vacation.”

 

“You’re what?”

 

Jensen grabbed the clothes he was going to buy and slung his messenger bag over his shoulder. “Campbell needs a break, so he’s going to Australia to visit his sister.”

 

There was the sound of a door being pushed open forcefully and when Jensen stepped out of the changing room, Morgan was already there, looking at him with a stormy expression. “You can’t.”

 

“I already told Jared,” Jensen said quietly and pushed past Morgan.

 

Morgan grabbed his arm. “This is not how we do things.”

 

Jensen glared at Morgan. “Get your fucking hand off of me. And the way you do things is a mess. I already booked the flight for next week, it’s a done deal.”

 

They stared at each other, until Morgan’s grip on Jensen’s arm softened. “How badly do you need this?”

 

There was concern in Morgan’s eyes but also compassion. That was what made Jensen slump.

 

“I’ll go crazy if I don’t.”

 

Morgan nodded and stepped back. “You should talk to someone. Not in the bureau, but I have a friend, a psychologist. She might be able to help you deal with the stress better.”

 

For a moment, Jensen thought about it. Getting it all off his chest. He snorted. There was no way. He couldn’t tell the truth and stay on the case. No one would believe that he’d see this through. Fuck, most of the time Jensen didn’t dare think about it because he had no idea how he’d survive making that choice.

 

“Thanks. But I’m good.”

 

Morgan raised his eyebrows.

 

Jensen rolled his eyes. “I’m alright,” he amended. “Just need a little break, see my family.”

 

“Your family?” Morgan asked in alarm.

 

“Relax. They’re vacationing in Hawaii. He won’t have a clue.”

 

And with that, Jensen walked away. He’d been lingering too long already and he really didn’t want to have a discussion with Morgan about undercover regulations. With this mission, Jensen was going above and beyond, so if he wanted to see his family, the regulations could go fuck themselves.

 

When he walked out of the store and saw Willy waiting by the car, he took a deep breath. He was going on a vacation. A real vacation. No lies, no pretend. Three weeks to go off high alert. To sleep in. To walk down a street and not look over his shoulder. To be himself.

 

Being himself. He had no idea what that even meant anymore. He just hoped that being with his family would bring it back.

 

He got into the car and told Willie to take him home.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Comments are love :)
> 
> You can find me on tumblr [here](http://ashtray-thief.tumblr.com/).


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